


Pylades Drunken, Orestes Ashamed

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angry Enjolras but he misses Grantaire too, Blushing Enjolras, Canon Era, Drunken Grantaire, Everybody notices how much Enjolras misses Grantaire, Grantaire Angst, Grantaire being Grantaire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7394194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras forbids Grantaire from attending the meetings of Les Amis de l'A B C, but secretly misses him a lot. He didn't realise how much, till Grantaire obeyed him and stopped showing up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pylades Drunken, Orestes Ashamed

21 st November 1831

There they were, seated in the back room at the Cafe Musain, each engrossed in his occupation.

Enjolras sat stiffly, reading some papers and making notes on an empty sheet of parchment. The soft light from the lamp made his face look paler and imbibed with a soft beauty as he paused in thought and bit the pen from time to time while continuing with his writing.  

Combeferre and Courfeyerac were absorbed in a general discussion on law and politics.

‘...M. de Montesquieu[1] claims that all laws must derive themselves from necessity. The law must not be a mere act of power of the state.’

‘I agree with him and that the law must presuppose innocence of the criminal.’

‘But if the laws aren’t harsh, it might mean that some criminals escape justice. How do you decide?’  

‘Better that, than innocent men be hanged for crimes they did not commit. But it is a careful balancing act. That the law must favour the innocent and not seek to simply punish the guilty, is something I'm convinced of.’ Combeferre said.  

‘Beccaria[2] also supports Montesquieu in stating that punishment should take the utilitarian approach; it should cause the greatest happiness to the greatest majority of people and it should be swift so that it is connected in the minds of the people to the crime. Jeremy Benthem[3] though in his essays on utilitarianism claimed that law must be taken as a prima facie evil as it works against liberty. He presupposes that law itself is an evil and not its application.’

‘But here we must address the very nature of liberty. It is not the freedom to do and say anything, liberty consists of living harmoniously within the laws of the state and we are presupposing a just Republic when we mean the state. This cannot apply to an absolute monarchy that restricts freedom through laws. Rousseau says that states should secure the freedom of the individuals rather than restrict them. ‘

‘And the rights and freedoms of all, not just some privileged individuals, and liberty must not be based on how much property or power they have.’

 ‘The Declaration of Rights of Man must adopt in some form, Mme. Olympe de Gouges[4]’ bill as well?’ Courfeyerac asked.

‘Indeed and not solely women but children, slaves and all people’s rights must be represented therein.’

'Hear, hear.'

At the next table, Bossuet was recounting one of the latest mishaps to have befallen him to Joly while Bahorel and Feuily were playing dominoes.

‘I tell you, the woman’s husband saw me at a very awkward time and I wasn’t even making eyes at her. I was looking at the bewitching coquette beside her, the one who was continuously looking towards me and smiling shyly.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to ask her. The husband was running after me and I ran all the way here.’

‘So that’s why, you looked in such a state as you came in. I was convinced that you had acquired several maladies, the symptoms of which included dilated pupils and palpitations of the heart and I was going to diagnose you with them.’ Joly laughed.

In hushed voices, Marius and Prouvaire were talking about women and love.

‘Who is she?’

‘I haven’t discovered her name. And I call her father M. LeBlanc, as I don’t know his as well, but he looks quite old. She takes her walks in the Luxembourg gardens. She is the most beautiful, the most wondrous creature I have ever seen. I cannot live without her. If she’s not in my life, I don’t know what I’d do. I haven't been able to locate her for some time. She hasn't been coming to the gardens anymore. 

Prouvaire nodded in understanding. He understood Marius’ predicament of wanting to be more a poet than a revolutionary hero. Marius had eyes for none but the girl.

‘Is that why you’ve been irregular at the meetings?’

Marius looked down at his coat.

Prouvaire smiled, ‘I hope you find her name. In fact, shouldn’t you be there trying to locate her address?’

Marius finished his drink and got up with a look of gratitude towards Prouvaire.

‘Go.’ Jehan pressed his hand.

Grantaire, at this moment was two bottles deep in his inebriated state, singing a bawdy song at the top of his lungs.

 

‘I know where the best wine is to be had

The best songs to be sung and danced as well

A good supper to boot, hale and hearty

I can get any woman I choose for my bed

Even Madam across the street, all high and mighty

 

 

Yet I would give them all up for an angel with a blessed name 

A glowing perfection only glimpsed from afar

And now my life is not the same, oh such a sweet shame

But to behold those rosy lips and warm blue eyes

I would give up my country and my life’

 

Grantaire looked at Enjolras as he sang the last line but nothing except his curls were visible as he was bent on the documents, save that there was now a frown on his face.

Courfeyerac laughed, ‘I hope you won’t give up your country for a pretty face. There is much hope still left.’

Grantaire downed another glass of absinthe.

‘Would you give up your drinking?' Joly laughed. 

'I drink out of necessity, dear Jolllly!'

'You drink because of pleasure.'

'And pleasure is necessity.'

There was a loud laughter from the crowd. Grantaire didn't smile.

‘Enough.’ Enjolras thundered.

‘You’re always drunk. You’re always talking about things that make no sense. We cannot rely on you for a single errand in the service of our cause. You're quite useless to the Republic since you don’t even believe in it. And look what you made me do.’

He gestured at the ink blots that were now appearing on his documents.

‘You’ve ruined them.’ There were pink spots in his cheeks. Grantaire stood gazing at his face.

Combeferre was always the calming influence of the group, a wise sage. This time, even his mediations did not work. Enjolras would not be convinced.

‘Get out now!’ Enjolras bellowed.

‘Let me stay and sleep it off.’ Grantaire slurred, ‘I can barely walk home in this state, can I? Hardly fit to even stand.’

Grantaire got up, took a bow and staggered to show how far gone in his cups he was and promptly sat down.

There was a cheer from the rest of the group.

‘Leave.’ Enjolras’ voice was much softer now but there was more contempt evident in it.

Grantaire got up reluctantly.  

Bossuet stood up to help him.

‘I don’t need help from L’aigle de Meaux, haven’t got very far to fly.’ He chuckled at his own joke and then went downstairs noisily. They saw him on the streets, talking to himself.

‘Enjolras.’ Courfeyerac began, ‘Was there really a need for this extreme measure?’

Enjolras didn’t reply. He busied himself in tidying his papers. ‘Somebody has to admonish him for his own sake.’

‘I don’t think that is the way to go about it though.’ Combeferre said gently.

Enjolras’ cheeks flushed red but he did not reply. There were some hushed whispers but everyone eventually moved to other discussion topics.

22 nd November 1831

Marius was still not showing up at meetings and though no one had expected it, Grantaire was absent as well.

Enjolras looked at the empty place with surprise.

‘You kicked him out, remember?’ Combeferre told him.

‘Yes but, I fully expected him to ignore what I said, just as he ignores all my reprimands about giving up absinthe.’

‘He must be at the Corinthe, drinking and singing.’ Courfeyerac remarked

‘Or chasing after pretty girls.’ Bahorel smiled.

‘You don’t seriously believe that he can get as many girls as he boasts?’

‘I think it is more likely the girls chase after him, for disturbing them.’  Bossuet laughed.

‘Well, leave it be.’ Enjolras said and that was the end of the discussion. 

Joly and Feuilly were playing cards. Prouvaire and Combeferre were having a discussion on the great lovers that have existed.

‘Where would you place Alexander the Great?’

He was renowned for several lovers, was he not?

Some talk of his relationship with Hephaestion as a great love story rather than a long lasting friendship. He didn’t eat for days after Hephaestion’s death. ‘

‘I do believe they were in love.’ Combeferre smiled. ‘But that was Ancient Greece.’

‘What other loves would you put in the same category?’

'...What about Marquis de Custine [5]and Edward Saint-Barbe?'

'Strange thing love is, isn't it? We cannot help who we fall in love with.'

'Do you think Grantaire is in love, as he sang?'

'With a man? He's certainly enamoured with something.' Combeferre glanced towards Enjolras. 

Bahorel and Feuilly were listening to Joly and Bossuet talk about Muischetta.

Courfeyerac was helping Enjolras draft some more papers in preparation for the next meeting.

From time to time Enjolras kept glancing at Grantaire’s empty seat. Courfeyerac smiled at his friend’s anxious state.

‘I thought he’d be back by now, getting drunk and making incoherent speeches.’

‘He’ll come.’

Enjolras sighed. Grantaire’s presence rarely stirred any emotion in him, so why did his absence cause such discomfort to him. He hoped at any rate that no harm had come to him. Grantaire's self deprecation and self pity, annoyed him to the point of exasperation. 'Why didn't he get his act together and work towards something?' Enjolras found Grantaire as a man, to be an enigma that he could not decipher.  

23 rd November 1831

Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyerac and Feuilly were discussing the workers rebellion in Lyon[6].

‘News is still coming in from Lyon but the workers’ uprising gives me some hope.’ Enjolras began.

‘That the workers will rise in Paris and in much greater numbers,’ Feuilly nodded, I have talked to some of them and they seem to be on our side.'

‘But a lot of those silk workers died. We won't know the true numbers for sometime but estimates reveal at least 500, perhaps even more.’

‘The conservative papers, estimate 300.’

‘Pooh! You shouldn’t believe anything that the pro-Monarchy papers write.’

‘I don’t.’ Courfeyerac grinned.

‘But it still reveals the incompetence of the ministers.’

‘The King will blame the Republicans.’ Combeferre was deep in thought.

‘Which is why, the time is ripe to send word to create branches of societies like ours, in Lyon. They must also rise in revolt. The Republic will become a reality.’ Enjolras’ blue eyes glittered.

He took a fresh sheet of paper and began writing and then glanced at the room.

‘It’s awfully quiet today.’

‘Grantaire’s bawdy songs and incoherent ramblings are very much missed.’ Feuilly observed.

‘Well, I just hope he stays away.’ Enjolras steeled his eyes away from the memory of Grantaire’s face that kept appearing in his mind.

‘I’m beginning to be concerned about Grantaire. I hope he’s alright.’ Combeferre nodded towards the door.

Enjolras glanced at the door with an uneasy look on his face.

Dare he admit that he had gotten used to Grantaire’s presence and missed him dearly? He buried his face in the papers so no one would see the unearthly pallor rise in his face, as he thought of all likely scenarios Grantaire could be caught up in that would prevent him coming to the meetings. Try as Enjolras might, he could not concentrate. His eyes moved from page to page barely registering a word. 

There was a noise at the steps and Grantaire walked to the back room.

‘Grantaire!’ Everybody rushed to meet him.

Grantaire gazed at Enjolras who had put papers in front of his face to hide the rouge colour returning in his cheeks.

‘Well, I simply slept the whole day, the absinthe was too overpowering. Then I remembered that I was banned from coming here, so I drank some more and slept some more. But I have come here and you may keep sending me away, I’ll keep coming back.’ This time Enjolras could not hide from Grantaire’s pointed gaze. He reluctantly got up and went towards him.

‘We’ve missed you. Welcome back.’ He murmured in a barely audible tone. Grantaire took him by the shoulders, hugged him, then kissed him on the left cheek, very near the lips; he then tottered about unsteadily on his feet.

‘I see you’re still drunk.’ Enjolras’ voice was back to its crispness to counter the embarrassing display of affection Grantaire had shown.

‘You forbade me to drink here, so I went to the Corinthe.’ Saying which, Grantaire settled back in his usual spot and started rambling on, to the benefit of anybody who would listen and ended his monologue by singing another bawdy song till his eyelids grew heavy and the night darkened outside.

 

[1] <http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/montesquieu/>

[2] <http://www.iep.utm.edu/beccaria/>              

[3] <http://www.iep.utm.edu/bentham/#H5>

[4] <https://chnm.gmu.edu/revolution/d/293/> 

[5] Marquis de Custain was an openly gay man in 1820s France and had a wife and child also. His future mother in law wrote a sympathetic book on his supposed gay relationship and reluctance to marry her daughter, Olivier (1822). He gained notoriety and was the joke of cruel gossip after 1824 when his advances towards an army officer resulted in him being robbed and beaten. For more information on gay relationships in the 19th Century, see Strangers: Homosexual love in the 19th Century by Graham Robb. 

[6] <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canut_revolts#First_revolt>


End file.
